Chapter VIII: Book III (2)

When Hatim heard all this, he bent his head to the dust in prayer to God, and when he arose, he looked around him, but the old man had vanished from his sight. He then betook himself to the prosecution of his journey towards the Red Desert, and in the course of a few months he found himself far beyond the habitations of men, in the midst of a wilderness where no water was to be found. Hungry and thirsty as he was, he still continued his route, his whole subsistence consisting of the wild fruits and weeds of the desert. In this way he journeyed for some time, when lo! one day, to his utter astonishment, he came to a place where the heavens and the earth wore a dark hue, and every object he saw was black. This place was the abode of the black serpents, which, when they scented Hatim, rushed upon him from all quarters in order to devour him. He threw upon the ground the talismanic staff of Mahyur the genius, and sat down upon it, safe by its magic power. The serpents continued to rear their crests and with a hissing noise to move round him in endless contortions the whole night. When daylight appeared, he took his staff in his hand, and continued his march secure from the venom of the snakes, and thus he journeyed on till he reached the boundaries of the land of darkness. Contiguous to this lay the white regions, which Hatim began to explore. Here every object was possessed of the most brilliant whiteness, so that the whole place seemed made of alabaster. At the same time white serpents of prodigious size endeavored from a distance to inhale him with their poisonous breath; but on account of his charmed staff their efforts were of no avail, nor had they the power of approaching him. In the course of a few days, Hatim succeeded in making his way through these dangerous realms, and next arrived in a region where every object he beheld was green as emerald. There, too, abounded serpents of a green color, and when they saw Hatim they quickly surrounded him, and were it not for the virtue of his talisman, his days would have been short. Hatim, however, unhurt, surmounted a thousand perils and difficulties as he travelled through the evergreen regions; and at length he arrived in an extensive tract of land, which to him seemed to be wrapt in flames, and this he knew to be the Red Desert.

There every object was red as vermilion, and ere Hatim had advanced many steps the heat became so intolerable that he almost lost the power of walking. He thought within his heart that it would be impossible to proceed any further; but, again, he said to himself: “Oh, Hatim! in doing a good action, whatever happens, let it come, even were the difficulties a thousand times more severe than the present.” By the time he had advanced a farasang his feet were full of blisters, and his thirst was so excessive that he was compelled to rest at every step.

“Now,” thought Hatim, “my dying hour is come; if I wished to return, I have not even the power; and if I advance, I shall assuredly perish. But at the same time I cannot live here.” Having made this resolution, he continued to move slowly onwards, till by the time he had advanced another farasang, he became exhausted, and his thirst was so extreme that he sunk upon the ground and lay like one dead, his whole body covered with blisters.

While he lay senseless in this state, an aged man came up to him, and seizing his hand, raised him from the earth, and said to him, “Oh, Hatim! here you have no cause for despair; why do you not avail yourself of the talisman given you by the bear’s daughter?” Hatim collected his scattered senses, and speedily producing the talisman put it in his mouth, which was no sooner done than the heat of the Red Desert ceased to oppress him, and his blisters were healed. Hatim then prostrated himself at the feet of his aged monitor, and said, “Most venerable sir, tell me what is the cause of this excessive heat?” The old man replied, “This heat is caused by the red serpents that haunt the desert. They are of immense size, and from their mouths they breathe volumes of flame and clouds of smoke, hence the fiery hue of every object you behold.” Hatim, however, secure under the effects of the talisman which he carried in his mouth, went fearlessly on, and felt not the least inconvenience from the scorching heat.

When he had penetrated as far as the centre of the Red Desert, the fire-breathing serpents espied him, and began to rear their heads and crests aloft like tall trees. From their nostrils issued streams of flame as it were from a furnace, and with tremendous hissing they assailed him on all sides, intending to scorch him to death and reduce his bones to ashes. But owing to the charmed muhra of the bear’s daughter, the attack of the snakes fell upon Hatim like a current of cool water. Meanwhile the serpents increased in number, and were about to overpower him with their pestiferous and scorching breath. He at last threw upon the ground the magic staff of Mahyur, the king of the genii, and such was its wonderful effect, that when he stood upon it no snake could come within reach of him. The serpents overawed, remained at a distance; and notwithstanding their utmost efforts for the whole of that night, they were not able to do him the least harm. When daylight appeared, Hatim observed that the largest of the red serpents had in its mouth the muhra which he wished to procure, but never allowed it to drop upon the ground. He took his magic staff, and aiming it at the head of the serpent, struck it such a blow as made it recoil upon itself and roll amidst the dust. There the snake lay stunned till the sun arose, when it revived, and dropping the muhra, slowly dragged itself to its den. Hatim quickly ran to take up his treasure, but from its brilliant appearance he hesitated to lay hold of it, thinking that it was as hot as fire. He stood for some time viewing the muhra, and at length he tore a piece of cloth from his turban, and by way of experiment placed it upon the shining jewel. When he observed that the cloth was not burnt, he ventured to take the muhra in his hand and carefully wrapped it in a fold of his turban.

The moment Hatim had the muhra in his possession, he was surprised in finding that the heat of the desert no longer remained, and the objects around him assumed a verdant hue. Now this muhra was possessed of the rarest qualities, to the number of a thousand and one, of which we may mention the following:--The first was, that the possessor of it should never be drowned; the second, that he should be secured from any bad effects of fire; the third quality that was inherent in this pearl was, that it restored sight to the blind; the fourth, that it cured the bite of a snake or any other venomous creature; the fifth, he who had it with him in war was sure of obtaining victory; the sixth, he should be endeared alike to friend and foe; the seventh, all four-footed and winged animals should be obedient to his commands; the eighth was, that he should excel in wisdom; the ninth, that his wealth should be boundless; but it would be tedious to detail the whole.

In fine, Hatim returned with the muhra, and in the course of time he came to the place where he left the young soldier. He saluted him, and resigning the precious treasure into his hands, he said to him, “Go now and present this to the magician.” The young man prostrated himself at the feet of Hatim, and the latter having raised him up, related to him all the occurrences of his journey, and described to him the regions of the serpents. The two friends then proceeded together to the capital of the magician, and the youthful soldier having obtained an interview of his Majesty, presented him with the muhra, in the procuring of which, he stated, that he had undergone a thousand toils, and encountered perils innumerable. “That,” replied the magician, “I shall soon put to the proof.”--“With all my heart,” said the youth; and accordingly the magician commenced a strict inquiry respecting the Red Desert, the serpents, and the other particulars, all of which the soldier answered to his satisfaction.

The magician, highly delighted with the treasure he thus possessed, said to the young man, “There now remains only one task to be accomplished, which is, that you will plunge bare of your clothing into a cauldron full of boiling oil; are you prepared to comply with the same?” The youth replying in the affirmative, the magician issued orders to his people to place the iron cauldron on the furnace, fill it with oil, and with a strong fire heat the same till it boiled. The attendants of the magician immediately executed this order, and so heated the oil that if a stone were cast into it, it would have instantly dissolved. Meanwhile the soldier returned to Hatim, and said to him, “Alas, my benefactor! I have yet to fulfil the severest of his Majesty’s conditions. He expects me to cast myself into a cauldron full of boiling oil, and if I come out unhurt, I am to be honored with the hand of his daughter. But, I would ask you, is it in the power of mortal man to undergo such an ordeal, and escape with life?”

“Be not disheartened,” said Hatim; “even in this conjuncture I can ensure your success.” He then produced the talisman of the bear, and presenting it to the young soldier, he said to him, “Take this muhra in your mouth, and you may without the least hesitation cast yourself into the boiling liquid.” The youth, still incredulous, shuddered at the idea; and Hatim swore to him by all that was sacred that he should come by no harm. The soldier at length took the talisman as advised, and having ascended the steps that led to the mouth of the boiler, he looked at the burning liquid foaming furiously like a troubled sea, and all firmness left his heart. Hatim then exclaimed to him, “Are you a man? Is such fear consistent with your love?” When the young soldier heard this from Hatim, he hesitated no longer, but shutting his eyes threw himself into the midst of the boiler. To his surprise, the oil that had been heated to the utmost had no more effect upon him than cool water. He walked slowly from one side of the boiler to the other, and in presence of the magician began to lift in his hands the fiery liquid and sprinkle it on his body. When some time had elapsed, the soldier thus addressed the magician, “Most mighty king, what is your decision now? Shall I come out or remain here longer?” When the king saw that the soldier still lived, he held down his head in thoughtfulness, and a trembling seized his soul, as he said, “Young man, I am satisfied; come out at once.” But no sooner had the soldier accomplished this third task, than the magician, unwilling to fulfil his promise, began to assail him with enchantment. Hatim, however, came to his assistance, and warned the king of the magicians, saying, “Your arts are of no effect upon this youth, for he has a talisman more potent than the muhra of the red serpent; you must therefore fulfil what you have promised him.” The magician, thus surpassed in his art, embraced the young soldier as a sign of friendship, and having made the necessary preparations, gave him his daughter in marriage, and with the utmost suavity said to him, “Now, my son, you are to consider all my wealth as your own, for I have no other male heir on whom to bestow it.”

When Hatim saw the two lovers united in wedlock, he took leave of the happy bridegroom, and departed in prosecution of his journey. In the course of time he arrived at the foot of the mountain Alka, which was so high that none of the feathered tribes had wings sufficient to reach its summit. There he halted for a moment, in order to consider what course to take, and said in his heart, “Of whom can I receive information respecting this strange place, and who shall direct me on my way?” While these reflections occupied his mind, he espied a troop of beautiful fairies tripping along the brow of the mountain, and without further delay he followed them. After he had traced the fairies to some distance up the hill, they suddenly disappeared and left him in solitude. Hatim, astonished, looked around him, and saw in the side of the mountain a cave, which seemed to be formed from a solid rock of marble. The entrance into it was a steep descent into the bowels of the earth along the marble rock, which was as smooth as glass. Hatim hesitated whether he should enter, as egress seemed to be impossible; for no human foot could rest upon this steep and slippery path.

On further consideration, however, Hatim resolved to enter; and having laid himself upon the smooth stone, he let go his hold and commenced his rapid descent. For the whole of that day he continued to slide downwards, and at evening he found himself landed on level ground. There he opened his eyes, and beheld around him an extensive field delightful to the sight. He rose up and sought a place wherein to repose till day, when he resolved to go in quest of the fairies, as he had reason to suppose that they too had descended into the cave. When the darkness of night had withdrawn, Hatim began to traverse those strange regions, and had not gone far when an edifice of splendid appearance met his view. This was nothing less than the palace of the fairies, and thither he directed his steps. When he approached the mansion, the fairies observed him, and cried out, “Are you aware, son of Adam, that these are our regions, not yours? how came you here, and who has been your conductor?”--“He who has ever been my guide,” replied Hatim, “conducted me hither.”--“And how,” rejoined the fairies, “did you discover the descent into this subterraneous abode?”--“I saw you,” he replied; “as you passed along the mountain, and followed you till you vanished from my sight; on searching around me, however, I observed the entrance into the cave, and laying myself on the smooth inclined stone, my descent was rapid. Now that I have found you, tell me what is the name of this region, and who is its sovereign?”

“This,” replied the fairies, “is the mountain of Alka, and the sovereign of these realms is Alkanpari. We are the guardians of this paradise, where our fairy queen resides during the season of spring, and to-morrow we expect her arrival here to enjoy the delights of the garden. Our permitting you to remain then is impossible, for it would be death both to ourselves and you; but now that you are here you must be ruled by us, and we will save your life, for we bear you no enmity.” To this Hatim answered, “Whither can I flee for refuge, for verily there is no escape; and besides, I have undergone all the toils and perils of my journey in order to obtain an interview with your queen, who is now so opportunely about to visit this garden; I will therefore remain here, happen what will.”--“And what,” said the fairies, “may be your business with our gracious queen? You are a poor man, and she is sovereign of the fairy realms.”--“Have you never heard,” replied Hatim, “of a fairy’s being in love with one of the human race, or of a man’s being enamoured of a fairy?”--“In truth,” rejoined the fairies, “you seem to be weary of your own life, to utter such language in our presence.”--“You may judge,” said Hatim, “how little I care for my life by my venturing hither.”

On hearing this reply, all the fairies rushed upon Hatim and began to assail him; but he stood firm, and neither warded off nor returned their blows. His assailants ceased from their attacks, and wondered in their own minds what sort of a man he was that would neither fight nor run away: they therefore, relenting, said to him, “Strange youth, we warn you, out of compassion, to remain no longer here; this place is not fitted for your residence, and if you disregard our advice, it will be at the risk of your life.” To this Hatim replied, “I am not afraid of death, for I had freed myself from the love of life, and placed my reliance upon the supreme Creator, ere I entered your territories.” The fairies, pleased with his courage, addressed Hatim in a tone of reconciliation, and said, “O youth, eloquent of speech, come with us, and we shall conceal you in a secret avenue; and if you are anxious to behold our queen Alkanpari, we shall point her out to you from a distance.”

Hatim expressed his consent; and the fairies conveying him to an unfrequented part of the garden gave him food and fruits wherewith to appease his hunger, and brought him water to drink. Charmed with his society, they crowded around him, and after various conversation, they said to him, “Tell us truly, brave youth, what has been the object of your journey hither?” Hatim replied, “My business with your queen is this: she once had an interview with a young friend of mine; and left him at a certain tree, with a promise that she would return to him in the space of seven days. The youth has now waited there upwards of seven years in expectation of the fulfilment of her promise; his soul is on the eve of quitting his body. At short intervals, he exclaims, ‘_Come, oh come! for I can no longer endure thy absence._’ I happened to observe his miserable plight, and twice to no purpose I asked him the cause of his sorrow: at length, finding that I persisted in my inquiries, he told me the whole occurrence. On hearing his tale, my heart glowed with pity; and for the sake of affording him relief, I have journeyed hither. My object is to remind your queen of her promise, as it is most likely that she has ere now forgotten it.”

When the fairies heard this statement, they said to Hatim, “Generous man, we dare not take upon ourselves to represent your case to our queen, but we can carry you bound as captive before her, and then you can exert all your eloquence in behalf of your friend. Were we to introduce you designedly to her Majesty, we should incur her displeasure.”--“Let me be presented to your queen,” rejoined Hatim, “in whatever way is most convenient to you; when once in her presence, I shall know how to proceed. I shall consider myself happy if I can promote the suit of my helpless and despairing friend.”

In the course of three days, the queen, accompanied by troops of fairies, issued from her palace, and proceeded towards the garden where Hatim lay concealed. At length, she arrived in that paradise, and after she had rested a little, and received the homage of her subjects there, one of the fairies who were friendly to Hatim went to him privately, and said, “Come with me, and I will point out to you our queen, where you may behold her unobserved.” Hatim followed the fairy, who led him by a private path to the entrance of a grotto close to the spot where the queen was seated on her throne of gold. When Hatim beheld her angelic form, he lost hold of the reins of reason. For some time he lay senseless; and when consciousness returned into his frame, in vain did he betake himself to prayer, and endeavor to flee unto the Lord for protection. In fact, he became more frantic and more enamoured of the beautiful fairy than the youth whose cause he had undertaken. Hatim thus spent three days and nights, forgetful of his friend, and regardless of food and drink. On the fourth night a feverish sleep overpowered his eyelids, and in his confused slumbers he heard a voice exclaiming, “Oh, Hatim! arise and know thyself; hast thou not devoted thy life to the service of thy Creator, and wilt thou now permit thyself to be guilty of a breach of trust?”

On hearing this warning voice, Hatim awoke from his dream, but saw no one near him. He rose up, and with fear and trembling prayed to God to forgive his transgressions, and support him in this hour of trial. On seeing some of the fairies, he entreated them to conduct him before the queen. They told him, as formerly, “We dare not openly comply with your request, but we can carry you into the royal presence with your hands bound as a prisoner.”--“In whatever way you choose,” said Hatim, “present me to her Majesty, that I may describe to her the condition of my despairing friend.” The fairies made their arrangements, and having found a favorable moment when the queen was in a joyous mood, they approached her Highness by the garden gate; and one of them advancing, after due obeisance said, “O queen, one of the race of Adam has somehow found his way to the gate of our paradise; we have bound him fast, and are waiting your Majesty’s pleasure as to his future disposal.”

On hearing this, the fairy queen thought of her lover, whom she had left under the tree, and considered it as likely that the youth had thus traced her to her abode; she therefore ordered her attendants to conduct their prisoner into her presence. The fairies accordingly laid hold of Hatim, and were bringing him forward to the foot of the throne. When the queen beheld his majestic mien, all thoughts of her former lover vanished. She desired him to approach, and having ordered for him a chair of burnished gold, she took him by the hand, and made him sit near her. The fairy queen then addressing Hatim, said, “Tell us, noble youth, whence came you, and what is your name; what has been your object in coming hither, and how have you been able to accomplish the journey?” Hatim, now seated before the beautiful fairy, became speechless, and was unable to give any reply. The queen observed his confusion, and secretly rejoiced to find that the arrow of her enchanting glances had pierced his heart. In accents of extreme affection, she again said to him, “Brave youth, what is the cause of your silence; have you nothing to say in reply?” Hatim, at length, rallied his thoughts, and said, “O queen, my answer is brief; I came from the country of Yemen, and my name is Hatim.”

The moment the queen heard this, she gracefully arose, and taking Hatim by the hand, seated him on her own throne, saying, “I have ere now heard of Hatim, prince of Yemen; numerous indeed, brave prince, are the acts of kindness and generosity which you have done to your fellow-creatures; but tell me now the cause of your coming hither, and why you have undergone such toils and perils. Be assured that I am one of your admirers, so you may freely speak your thoughts without fear of giving offence.”

Hatim, thus encouraged, spoke: “O queen of the fairy realms, your kindness is beyond measure: had I a thousand tongues I should still be unable to celebrate your noble qualities. Be it known, then, that I have come before your Majesty in the fulfilment of a promise which I made to a certain enamoured swain. It happened, as I was journeying to the desert of Himyar, that I passed by a young man, from whose eyes flowed tears like a shower from the clouds in spring. Owing to his intense sorrow and lamentation, his soul was almost driven from his body; indeed, I question if he now lives. There he lay with his eyes shut, exclaiming in the intervals of his sighs, ‘_Come, oh come! for I can no longer endure thy absence._’ I asked him the cause of his sorrow, and how he had been reduced into so miserable a state. After some hesitation he told me all: how your Majesty had met with him, and shewed him affection and kindness. ‘Alkanpari,’ said the wailing youth, ‘promised me at her departure to return in seven days; and now for seven long years I have waited in misery and woe, expecting her return. Here I cannot remain, and hence I dare not depart; for when my angel left me, she laid upon me strict injunctions to move not hence; I cannot, then, disobey her command, and proceed in search of her. If fate has decreed that we should again meet, it must be on this spot.’ When I saw the woful condition of this wretched man, and found that his love was sincere, I deferred the prosecution of my own journey, and hastened hither. I hope, then, your Majesty will treat with kindness and compassion the despairing lover. This will lay the highest obligation on me, the humblest of your slaves.”

To this Alkanpari said, in reply, “Generous prince of Arabia! I had entirely forgotten the circumstance you mention, till my people informed me of your arrival here; and then I thought it probable that you might be my former lover. However, the moment I saw you, I found that you were not the man; and now I confess to you that he is unworthy of my regard. His love for me must be very cool indeed, since, out of pure timidity, he has lingered seven years in one spot, and has not had the courage to venture hither in quest of me. I pointed out to him the road, and told him my own name and that of the mountain which I inhabit, and had he been a true lover, he would have followed me, were it at the peril of his life.”

Hatim, in favor of the young man, rejoined, “Had his passion been otherwise than sincere, he could not have so drunk of the cup of affection nor have undergone such misery from the remembrance of you. You exacted from him a solemn promise at parting, and how could the poor lover act contrary to your commands? The enamoured youth is conscious of his own integrity, for when you departed you strictly enjoined him to remain underneath the tree till your arrival, and accordingly he has not stirred thence till now, lest in his absence you should return and not find him; in which case he would stand convicted of having disobeyed your orders, and thus incur your displeasure.”

The fairy queen lent a deaf ear to all that he could urge, and utterly disowned her former lover. Hatim however, persevered, saying, “For heaven’s sake let my labor not be in vain; consider through what toils and hardships I have accomplished my journey hither.”--“Well,” replied the queen relenting, “I cannot refuse what you request; this youth I will permit to come near me, but I will neither associate with him nor consider him as a companion.”--“And why not,” said Hatim, “accept him as your lover? What is the cause of such a change of mind?”--“Such is my pleasure,” replied the queen, “and it shall not be otherwise.”--“If such be your resolution,” rejoined Hatim, “I will stand fasting at your gates; and, till the hand of death seize me, I will night and day complain to heaven of your cruelty.”

Having thus spoken, he quitted the presence of the fairy queen, and having removed underneath the shade of a tree, there he remained for seven days without tasting food or drinking water. On the eighth night, as he fell asleep, an old man appeared to him in a dream, and said, “Brave Hatim, be of good cheer; this beautiful fairy has more than one lover that laments her treachery: but you must first bring your friend hither, and then cause him to take the talisman given you by the bear’s daughter, and steep it in a goblet full of pure water. This draught will then ferment into a sherbet, and you must contrive that the queen shall drink of it, which, God willing, will be the means of restoring her affection.”

Hatim awoke from his dream, and as he was meditating on what had occurred, the dawn appeared. Meanwhile, approached the fairy queen: she stood before him, and said, “O Hatim, why do you thus persist in rejecting my hospitality? If you perish from want at my gates, shall I not on the day of judgment be arraigned as the cause of your death, and what will be my answer before the Supreme Judge?”--“O queen,” said Hatim in reply, “let me prevail on you to send for my love-sick friend, that he may be blessed even with the sight of your countenance.”--“Assuredly,” replied the queen, “I have no objection whatever to his being near me.”

When Hatim heard this, he made preparations to return for his friend; but the fairy queen said to him, “You need not, Hatim, expose yourself to the perils of such a journey a second time; my fairies will do the work much more speedily.” Her Majesty then summoned a few of her subjects, and despatched them in quest of her lover, saying, “On the brow of a certain mountain, reclining underneath a tree, you will find a young man bewailing the cruelty of his mistress. Tell him that Alkanpari requests his immediate attendance; that she has been reminded of her promise to him by Hatim, prince of Yemen.”

The fairies, with the speed of the wind, transported themselves to the spot where the youth lay, and delivered to him the orders of their mistress. Joyfully he heard the message, and expressed his obligations to the generous Hatim. The fairies then carried him along with them, and in the course of that same day presented him to Alkanpari their sovereign, which rendered his happiness complete. For some minutes his eyes were fixed on the beautiful fairy, till at length his senses forsook him and he fell lifeless upon the ground. The queen sprinkled some fragrant attar of roses on his face; and as soon as he recovered, she addressed him in the accents of kindness, saying, “Enamoured youth! I permit you to remain near me, and you may feast your eyes by beholding me as long as you please.” For the whole of that day the lover looked at nothing but the beautiful fairy, the fire of whose eyes consumed his heart. When the mantle of night was spread over them, the queen gave a signal, and troops of fairies entered, some with lights and music, to whose harmonious sounds the others danced. Amidst this scene of joy, Hatim saw that the fairy queen paid not the least regard to the sufferings of his friend. He went near the latter and said, “Despair not; take this muhra and immerse it for a few minutes in a cup full of pure water, which you shall pour into the goblet from which the queen is wont to drink: this done, return and take up your station here.” The young man did as Hatim directed him; and after he had mixed the elixir, and poured the same into the queen’s goblet, one of the fairies happened to observe him, and said, “Base mortal! how dare you touch the goblet of her Highness?”

The youth assured the fairy that he merely wished for some water to drink, as he felt very thirsty. The fairy immediately gave him a drink of water from another cup, and sent him back to his former station. Hatim was an anxious spectator of the occurrence; and when he saw that his friend had succeeded according to his wish, he approached the queen’s throne, and said to her, “Will your Majesty be pleased to drink some sherbet, as the weather is warm?” The queen expressed her assent, and ordered her attendants to bring some. Hatim, however, undertook to be cup-bearer himself on the occasion; and having with his own hands prepared the sherbet, he brought the goblet to the queen. Her Majesty was about to hand the draught to some of her intimate friends who were then with her, but Hatim observed that the laws of courtesy required that the queen should drink first, and then such of her friends as she might deem proper to honor with the goblet.

The fairy queen drank copiously of the sherbet. In an instant the reins of her heart fell from her hands, and she became deeply enamoured of the dying swain. Pierced with the darts of love, she rose up in order to fly to his arms, while Hatim secretly rejoiced to see her affection thus restored. He also stood up, and said to her, “O queen of the fairy realms, how comes it that you are now so kindly disposed towards your lover, who had almost become a martyr to your cruelty during the long period of your absence?”--“O Hatim!” replied the queen, “all this mischief is of your doing; however, I forgive you, and this youth I will accept as my husband, agreeably to your desire: at the same time I dare not take so important a step without the consent of my parents.”

Having thus spoken, the fairy queen, accompanied by her select guards, flew with the swiftness of thought to her principal residence in the mountain of Alka. There she first waited on her mother, who said to her in surprise, “My dear daughter, six months are yet to pass of the period you proposed to reside in the gardens; why return you then at this unseasonable hour of midnight?” The beautiful Alkanpari stood speechless, and motioned to her attendants to explain the cause of her visit. They stated that the fairy queen had fallen in love with a youth of the race of Adam, and that the flame was mutual; that the lovers had met upwards of seven years past, but that the queen had for a long period abandoned her swain to the pangs of absence and despair, till lately he found means of discovering her residence; and that she is now willing to accept him as her husband, provided she obtain the consent of her parents.

The mother, immediately on hearing this, went and represented the affair to the father, who said in reply, “If such be the wish of our daughter, I am satisfied; why should we prevent her?” The queen having received the consent of her parents, immediately sent messengers for her lover and Hatim, who were soon in attendance. When they arrived at the palace, the beautiful queen presented the young man to her mother. The mother commended him to the father, who without more delay made preparations for the marriage, and according to the usages of the fairy race, gave the hand of his daughter to Hatim’s friend.

When the enamoured pair were thus joined in the bands of wedlock, the young man in grateful terms expressed his obligations to Hatim, who remained with him seven days, and then took leave, in order to prosecute his journey. When about to depart, the queen inquired of Hatim to what part of the world he intended to travel; and when he told her, “To the mountains of Himyar,” she said to him, “Noble Hatim, give yourself no concern about your journey; Himyar is indeed a long way off, but my fairies shall convey you thither with the utmost speed.”

The queen summoned a few of her subjects, and gave them her instructions respecting the mountain of Himyar. They then placed Hatim on a howdah, and carried him through the air with such speed that in the course of twenty-four hours they laid him down at the wished-for stage. Hatim had no sooner arrived than he heard the voice of the man who exclaimed, “_Do evil to no one; if you do, evil will overtake you._”

When Hatim heard this welcome sound, he requested the fairies to leave him, as he now considered himself at the end of his journey, and had occasion to stay for some time in these parts. The fairies accordingly took their leave and departed, while Hatim proceeded in the direction of the voice which had struck his ear. He had not far advanced when he observed an old man confined in a cage which was suspended to the branch of a tree. Hatim stood silent for a short time viewing with wonder the inmate of the cage, who once more exclaimed, “_Do evil to none; if you do, evil will overtake you._”

Hatim went close to the prisoner, and said to him, “Tell me, unfortunate man, what mean these words which you utter; and why are you confined in this cage, and suspended to the branch of the tree?”--“Ask me no questions,” replied the old man, “unless you wish to mend my condition and afford me relief. If you desire to hear my secrets, you must give me a sacred promise that you will not communicate the same to any one else.” To this Hatim assented, saying, “I give you my promise, and I am ready to confirm it by oath.” The old man then proceeded with his history: “I am by occupation a merchant, and my name is Hamir. When I became of age, my father had finished the building of this city, and he called the same after my name. Shortly after, my father departed on a sea voyage, and left me in charge of the city. I was a free-hearted youth, and in a short time expended all the property left under my care by my father. Thus I became surrounded with poverty and want; and as I knew that my father had hidden treasures somewhere in his house, I resolved to discover them if possible. I searched everywhere, but found nothing; and to complete my woe, I received the news of my father’s death, the ship in which he sailed being wrecked.

“One day as I was sauntering, mournful and dejected, through the bazar, I espied a learned man who cried out, ‘If any one has lost his money by theft or otherwise, my knowledge of the occult sciences enables me to recover the same, but on condition that I receive one-fourth of the amount.’ When I heard this proclamation, I immediately approached the man of science, and stated to him my condition, and how I had been reduced from affluence to poverty. The sage undertook to restore my wealth, and above all to discover the treasures concealed in my father’s house. I conducted him to my house and showed him every apartment, which he carefully examined one after another. At length by his art he discovered the stores we were in search of; and when I saw the gold and silver and other valuables, which exceeded calculation, the demon of fraud entered my heart, and I refused to fulfil my promise of giving a fourth of the property to the man of wisdom. I offered him only a few small pieces of silver; instead of accepting which, he stood for a few moments in silent meditation, and with a look of scorn, said, ‘Do I thus receive the fourth part of your treasure, which you agreed to give me? Base man, of what perjury are you guilty!’

“On hearing this I became enraged; and having struck him several blows on the face, I expelled him from my house. In a few days, however, he returned, and so far ingratiated himself into my confidence that we became intimate friends; and night and day he displayed before my sight the various hidden treasures contained within the bowels of the earth. One day I asked him to instruct me in this wonderful science, to which he answered, that no instruction was requisite. ‘Here,’ said he, ‘is a composition of collyrium, and whoever applies the same to his eyes, to him all the wealth of this world will become visible.’--‘Most learned sir,’ I replied, ‘if you will anoint my eyes with this substance, I promise to share with you the half of all such treasures as I may discover.’--‘I agree,’ said my friend, ‘meanwhile let us retire to the desert, where we shall be free from interruption.’

“We immediately set out, and when we arrived here, I was surprised at seeing this cage, and asked my companion whose it was. I received for answer, that it belonged to no one. Then we both sat down at the foot of this tree, and the sage having produced the collyrium from his pocket, began to apply it to my eyes. But, alas! no sooner had he applied this composition than I became totally deprived of sight. In a voice of sorrow I asked him why he had thus treated me, and he replied, ‘Such is the reward of treachery; and if you wish to recover your sight, you must for some time undergo penance in this cage. You must utter no complaint, and you shall exclaim from time to time, “_Do no evil to any one; if you do, evil will befall you._”’

“I entreated the sage to relieve me, saying, ‘You are a mere mortal like myself, and dare you thus torment a fellow-creature? How will you account for your deeds to the Supreme Judge?’ He answered, ‘_This is the reward of your treachery._’ Seeing him inexorable, I begged of him to inform me when and how my sight was to be restored; and he told me that a noble youth should one day visit me, and to him I was to make known my condition, and further state, that in the desert of Himyar there is a certain herb called the flower of light, which the youth was to procure and apply to my eyes, by means of which my sight should be restored.

“It is now nearly three years since he left me in this prison, which, though wide open, I cannot quit. Whenever I attempt to leave my confinement, I feel the most excruciating pain in my limbs, so that I have not the power of moving, and thus I am compelled to remain. One day, shortly after my companion left me, I reflected in my own mind that I could do nothing for myself while I continued like a bird in this cage, and accordingly I resolved to quit it at all hazards; but the moment I was outside of it, the pain that seized my whole body almost killed me. I immediately returned into my prison, and have since that time resigned myself to my fate, exclaiming at stated times the words which have already attracted your attention. Many people have in the meantime passed by me; but on hearing my condition, they left me as they found me, without administering to my relief. To-day you have added one more to the number of my visitors: may I ask whether you intend to assist me?”

When Hatim heard this account from the man in the cage, he said to him, in reply, “My friend, be of good cheer, I will instantly endeavor to effect your release”; and without further delay, he proceeded to the desert in search of the flower of light. We have already stated, that the fairies that had conveyed him thither, returned, at his own request, to fairy-land; but when they came before Alkanpari, her Highness immediately ordered them back to attend upon Hatim while in the desert of Himyar, and afterwards to conduct him in safety to Shahabad. Accordingly when Hatim entered the desert he was surprised at again meeting the fairies. They also recognized Hatim, and having stated the whole occurrence, offered him their services, and requested to know whither he was going. “I am going,” replied Hatim, “in search of the flower of light, which grows somewhere in this desert.”--“We shall soon carry you to the spot,” replied the fairies; “at least we can show you from a distance the field where that plant is found; if you return thence with life, we are in attendance in order to convey you to your own country; and should aught evil befall you in your present enterprise, we shall carry the intelligence of it to our mistress.”--“And why,” said Hatim, “will you not accompany me all the way?”--“Our approaching the spot,” replied the fairies, “is useless, and maybe fatal. When this flower is in bloom, the field where it grows is illumined as it were with brilliant lamps; the beautiful light which it emits is such that you will easily see the object of your search; but, on the other hand, around those flowers are stationed thousands of horrible snakes, poisonous scorpions, and other formidable creatures without number, so that even the fowls of heaven cannot approach the deadly spot.”--“Conduct me thither,” rejoined Hatim, “and leave me to manage the rest.”

The fairies lifted Hatim from the ground, and having swiftly traversed the air for the space of seven days, they alighted with him about the time of midnight in an extensive plain. He then asked them to point out to him the flower which he was so eager to pluck, but they told him that the season when it should be in bloom had not yet arrived. He therefore resolved to remain there till the appointed time, and meanwhile the fairies plentifully supplied him from all quarters with food to eat, and fruit and water wherewith to quench his thirst. In a short time the flowers of light began to blossom in the field, each of them brilliant as a lamp, so that the whole plain became a blaze of light. The breezes that blew over the desert were loaded with the sweetest perfume.

Meanwhile serpents, scorpions, and beasts of prey without number, issued from the bosom of the earth, and completely surrounded the illumined flowers. The fairies stood aghast, and Hatim observing their terror, said to them, “Do you keep aloof here so as to be out of danger; I have placed my reliance upon God, and whatever may happen, I will not shrink from my enterprise.” Hatim having made this resolution, took in his hand the talisman of the bear’s daughter, and fearlessly advancing into the midst of the field, he plucked three of the largest and most brilliant flowers, and returned unhurt to his guides. The fairies were astonished at this daring feat, and looked on Hatim as a being far beyond their comprehension. Obedient to his sign, they raised him upon their shoulders, and swiftly winged their way through the air to that part of the desert where Hamir was imprisoned.

Hatim approached him, and said, “Be not sad, my friend, behold the flower which you say will restore your sight.” The blind man expressed his thanks to heaven, and said to Hatim, “Brave youth, be pleased to compress the stalk with your own hands, so that the juice of it may drop into my eyes.” Hatim untied the cage from the branch of the tree, and having released the inmate, he applied the liquid to his eyes as directed. Having repeated this process three times, the blind Hamir at length opened his eyes, and seeing Hatim, fell at his feet and offered him a profusion of thanks. Hatim kindly raising him up, said, “My good friend, why make so many acknowledgments? I have devoted myself to the service of my Creator, and I consider the performance of charitable deeds as the most lasting felicity.”

The man addressing Hatim in return, said, “Generous prince! my house abounds with gold and silver and all worldly wealth; accept, then, such portion of it as you may deem proper.”--“Truly, sir,” replied Hatim, “worldly wealth is of no use to me, for already I possess far more than is sufficient for me; I may advise you, however, to expend your treasures in such manner as may be acceptable to God, in the bestowing of food upon the hungry, and in clothing those who are naked.”

Here Hatim took his leave of the old man of the desert, and having mounted his howdah, the fairies carried him through the air with such swiftness that in a few days he arrived in Shahabad. He dismounted at the gates of the city, and the fairies, when about to return, requested of him to favor them with a letter to their queen, certifying his safe arrival. To this, Hatim readily agreed, whereupon his aerial guides took their leave and departed. He no sooner entered the city than Husn Banu’s people recognized him, and with the utmost promptness conducted him before their sovereign lady. Husn Banu received Hatim with the highest kindness, and asked him numerous questions respecting his adventure. Hatim detailed at length all that he had seen and performed in the course of his journey. Husn Banu then presented him with food and drink; but ere Hatim tasted of either, he requested that his friend the prince of Assyria should be invited to partake of his fare. Munir was immediately sent for, and after paying his warmest regard to Hatim, they both sat down and ate together. After they had finished their meal, Hatim, addressing Husn Banu, said, “Noble lady, tell me what is your next question?”--“There is a man,” replied Husn Banu, “who exclaims, ‘_He who speaks the truth is always tranquil._’ Go, then, and find out that man; inform me wherein he has spoken the truth, and what degree of tranquillity he enjoys in consequence.”--“May I ask,” said Hatim, “in what quarter of the world this man dwells?”--“That,” said Husn Banu, “is unknown to me, but I have heard from my nurse that the city is called Karam.”--“Enough,” said Hatim, “I trust that God will direct me in this also”; and taking his leave of Husn Banu, he proceeded with his friend Munir to the caravanseraï.